“They’re attending it now, along with Dahran Sulti who’ll see to it they’re safe. I’m here to do the same for you.” Darkness hid his expression but not the concern in his voice. “Does your father not worry that you walk alone at night?”
Emerence slipped the shop key and knife back into her pocket. “He always worries, but I’ve done this many times. It’s mostly safe and I stay alert and don’t carry money or jewels on me.” While moments before her heart sat wedged in her throat, it now beat fast at the knowledge Gaeres had come to escort her home, worried for her safety. “How did you know I was still here?” The windows in the drapery’s second story were blocked by concealing curtains, and the light from her desk lamp wasn’t bright enough to penetrate their coverings and shine through.
“I didn’t. Not at first. I wished to see you again so I left Dahran Sulti and my cousins at the party and returned here. I saw your father’s wife bring food to the shop after it closed and assumed you were still working.”
She gaped at him. “You waited all that time? Why didn’t you just knock? I would have let you in.” And cheerfully abandoned battling numbers in favor of spending time with the handsome Quereci.
He shrugged. “I didn’t wish to disturb you.”
Astonished, Emerence could only stare at him before saying, “That’s a long time to wait for someone, especially when you weren’t really sure it was me still in the shop.”
Another shrug, this one accompanied by a lopsided grin. “Reason and good instincts served me well.” He sobered. “I would be honored to escort you to your home or to one of the parties if you so desire.”
As fatigued as she was, the last thing Emerence wanted was to spend the rest of an already long evening amidst loud, drunken crowds, no matter how entertaining the venue or luxurious the setting. “Home,” she said, delighted by the idea of spending a brief time in Gaeres’s company, even if the walk was no more than two streets over from the shops. Hopefully they’d leisurely stroll.
Their breaths fogged in front of them, mingling in a single cloud before dissipating in the frosty air. The snow fell harder, cladding rooftops and covering streets in white. Used to initiating conversation and carrying on small talk with customers, Emerence avoided the awkwardness that came with hunting for topics of conversation.
“The two biggest public parties during Delyalda are hosted by the Ganmurgen and Dolrida families. They’ve been in competition with each other for more than a decade as to who hosts the best party. Which one did you and your cousins attend?”
Snow crunched under their feet as they walked, and Gaeres held her elbow to steady her as they navigated across a slippery patch of road. “I don’t remember,” he said. “It was a great house built of white stone, filled with light, people, and music.”
Emerence couldn’t decide if she heard awe or horror in his voice or possibly both as he described the scene. She recognized his description of the house. “That’s the Dolrida estate. Your cousins will be having a fine time there as will Dahran Sulti. You’re missing out by keeping company with me.” She wasn’t fishing for a denial. A young, handsome Quereci warrior would garner a great deal of fawning attention at a Delyalda celebration and be far more entertained than acting as escort to a tired shopkeeper whose idea of the best ending to the night was to drink a cup of tea and fall into bed.
“I disagree,” he said. “I’ve hoped all day I’d find a way to speak with you again. My patience has been rewarded. There’s no other place I’d rather be at the moment.”
Emerence halted abruptly. Gaeres mimicked her action. “Why?” she asked.
“Why what?”
She held out her hands in a puzzled gesture. “Why did you want to speak with me again? I assure you I’m not known for my sparkling conversation or extraordinary wit.” She was just Emerence Ipsan, merchant’s daughter. A spinster as well. “How unfortunate,” many had clucked to each other, often within her hearing.
Gaeres’s expression remained maddeningly obscure in the shadows. Emerence wished the night were clear so the moon’s radiance might reveal his features better. “Because I find you interesting and would like to know more about you.” He frowned suddenly. “Is this walk of ours unacceptable in Beladine society?”
His question made her smile. Her days of being chaperoned under a matron’s eagle eye for the sake of propriety were long over. There were certain freedoms and perks afforded to spinsterhood, and she was old enough now to act as a matron herself. She chuckled and resumed walking, Gaeres keeping pace beside her. “For a woman of my age and status, it’s perfectly acceptable.” And worthy of at least a month’s supply of gossip among any of the crones who loved to mind everyone else’s affairs except their own.
“What is your age and status?” he asked.
A blunt question that might be considered rude were it asked by another Beladine citizen, but Emerence interpreted as Gaeres meant it – innocent curiosity and a wish to learn more about her just as he’d said. “I’m six and thirty,” she said. He really didn’t need to know she was staring seven and thirty hard in the eye. “And I’ve never been married.”
“Ah. I assumed you were a widow.”
Of course he did. Those who didn’t know her always assumed such when they learned she wasn’t married. “As it is with most unattached women of my age,” she said. “It’s a reasonable assumption.”
“But not why I make it,” he countered. “You’re beautiful, brave, and competent. What man wouldn’t want such a woman?”
Stunned by his compliment and made tongue-tied by it, she stayed silent. He continued with his line of questioning, no doubt emboldened by her silence. “Why have you never married?”
That was an easy question to answer and answer honestly. She wondered if Gaeres would be as startled by her answer as she’d been by his praise of her. “I haven’t yet met the person I’m willing to devote myself to. When I do, it will be for all my life, wholeheartedly and without reservation. They will have all of me, and I will demand all of them. It’s a great deal to ask of someone and a great deal to give them. Such a person may not exist but I’d rather be alone and content in my solitary state than unhappy in a marriage simply for the sake of being wedded.
If her response unsettled him, he gave no indication of it, and the night hid any tell-tale emotion in his gaze. Even if she had unsettled him, it didn’t matter. Gaeres was Quereci, not Beladine. A visitor to Timsiora, a pleasant, very temporary distraction in her daily existence. If he chose to scoff at her words or worse, pity her for them, no matter. The worst that might happen would be she’d send him away and continue her journey home by herself.
Her fascination only grew when he nodded. “That is wise. And admirable. I think there would be many happier people and happier marriages if they thought as you did.”
“There would certainly be a lot more unattached people,” she said with a grin, relieved despite her logical self assurances, that he didn’t mock or express contempt for her beliefs. He’d complimented her yet again, and the warmth inside her chased away much of the cold seeping through her clothes.
They were halfway to her house, their time together almost at an end. Emerence chose to satisfy her own curiosity. “And you, Gaeres, what is your age and status?” She already knew him to be unmarried though not why.
“I’m seven and twenty,” he said. She’d guessed right, but having it confirmed made her groan inside. If only he was in the same decade as her. “I remained unmarried because I’m not yet deemed by my clan as worthy to take a wife.”
Emerence’s eyebrows shot up. Handsome, charming, son of a chieftain, and soon to be a council subchief himself according to Omeya. What could possibly disqualify him as husband material among his own people? “How do you become worthy?” The Quereci were an insular folk who kept to themselves for the most part, their culture mysterious and unknown to outsiders. It seemed she was about to get a peek into their society.
“Through notable deeds, di
splays of wise council, defense of the clan in times of hostility, hard work, and the building of trust in others through reliability and steadfastness.”
She blinked at him. “Those are all admirable traits in anyone, and while we don’t know each other very well, I have a difficult time believing you haven’t met most if not all of those requirements.”
It was Gaeres who halted first this time. He bowed to Emerence. “You honor me with your words,” he said. She blushed, grateful for the darkness. “I’ve tried to meet those expectations. Only one has yet to satisfy the elders, and that one is mostly due to my age. I hope to remedy that when I become a council sarsen.”
“Wise council,” she said. “Wisdom isn’t normally the purview of youth.”
Gaeres nodded. “So I’ve been told.”
“You’re young,” she said, “but not a stripling lad.” And his gaze was strangely old, she thought. The color and shape of his eyes were arresting, sublime, but their expression was riveting simply for that perennial quality to his regard.
“I hope to still be young by the time I do take a wife,” he said without revealing more about Quereci customs.
They resumed their walk a second time, and she steered the conversation back to the festival and more recommendations for the parties he and his relatives might enjoy attending. “Dahran Omeya said you weren’t staying for the entire festival. Now that you’ve attended some of the gatherings, will you change your mind?” She prayed he’d say yes.
He dashed her hopes with a quick shake of his head. “We leave day after tomorrow, early. However, my cousins are insistent we go to the Sun and Rose celebration. Have you heard of it?”
Not only had she heard of it, she’d attended it several years in a row when she was still in her twenties. “It’s one of the favorite Delyalda celebrations. Four young men are chosen to represent Yalda or the sun. They dance with every woman participating until the musicians stop the music. The woman still dancing with one of the four suns receives a rose of promise. The belief is she’ll find her true love and be married by the time of the next festival.”
“My cousins will kill me in my sleep if I don’t take them to that particular event,” he said on a mournful note.
Emerence laughed. “Trust me when I tell you that you’ll have as wonderful time as they will. As long as you like dancing. I used to attend every year. I still go some years. It’s as entertaining to watch as it is to participate.”
“Why don’t you participate? You said you didn’t wish to marry until you found someone you considered worthy of your heart. That doesn’t mean you can’t still dance and hope just as the others do.”
Whoever became this man’s wife would be one fortunate woman, she thought wistfully. “It’s no longer for me,” she said. “As I’m no longer a dewy maiden and have never been a widow, me dancing in the Sun and Rose would make me ridiculous in others’ eyes. Besides, every woman participating is another woman’s direct competition for that rose. Many truly believe in the rose’s promise. I’ve no wish to make it harder when I have no interest in the outcome.”
His frown became a scowl. “The Beladine are very different from the Quereci. A Quereci woman, old or young, would be encouraged to participate in such a dance, not mocked for it, and the men would fight for the privilege of representing the god instead of waiting to be chosen. In fact,” he continued, “the woman would be the one to pass out a rose to a hopeful Quereci man.”
She sighed. “Your people sound amazing, the women so valued in your world.”
“They are the heart and soul of the clans,” he said. “A Quereci man isn’t considered a full-fledged member of the clan until he marries or is sponsored by a Quereci woman. A Quereci woman is born with the status.” He smiled. “You don’t believe me.”
She shook her head. “No, I do. Truly. I’m just amazed by it all. The Quereci men accept this way of things?”
He tilted his head to one side. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they?”
She wanted to ply him with more questions but unfortunately they’d reached her house. It sat small, dark, and empty across the street from where she stood with Gaeres. Never before had seeing it not given her pleasure. Until now.
“My home,” she said, pointing to the structure. “My father and his wife live next door.” The bigger home was dark as well. No doubt Tocqua and Linnett were sound asleep.
Prior to Gaeres’s revelations about the strong matriarchal nature of Quereci society, Emerence would have braced herself for some disapproving remark over the fact she owned her home independent of her father or some other male relative. Such a thing just wasn’t done. Tocqua himself had been so furious when first learned what she’d done, he didn’t speak to her for a fortnight. She didn’t regret it then. She didn’t regret it now. She might be solitary, but her life was her own, including this humble abode.
Gaeres didn’t remark on her home ownership, but his face drew into forbidding lines and his demeanor changed, taking on a mien so threatening, Emerence backed up a step. “Your door is open,” he said softly. “And a shadow moves inside your house.”
Alarm shot through her and she peered at her door. It was indeed open, partially. The shadows cast from the nearby street lamp had hidden that fact from her on first glance, but her companion had noticed. Her heart thumped painfully fast and hard in her chest. An intruder lurked in her parlor. Were they looking to steal from a house temporarily unoccupied or where they waiting for her to return? The second possibility made her shudder much harder than the first one did.
Gaeres shifted, and suddenly he gripped a wicked looking long knife in one hand. He silently motioned for her to stay where she was.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, a terrible suspicion that he meant to confront the intruder becoming reality right in front of her.
He ignored her question and sprinted across the street on silent feet before she could stop him. He angled away from her door, ending up two houses down before creeping toward her house. As lithe and fluid as any shadow he soon slipped through the doorway.
Emerence jumped at the sudden crash of something breakable, followed by a pained yelp, then a thump and finally a gravid hush. Her door banged open suddenly, slamming against the outside wall as Gaeres emerged, dragging a huddled form by the scruff across the cobbled walk before tossing it into the middle of the street.
The loud noises had alerted her neighbors. Lamplight flared pale yellow in several windows, including those in her father’s house. Gaeres bent to pick something up from the ground before stepping into the street. He nudged the intruder onto his back with the tip of his boot.
Emerence gasped, her fear turning to outrage when she saw the face of the person who’d violated the sanctity of her home. “Culkhen Goa, you bastard!”
“Emerence,” Linnet finally declared, rubbing the small of her back after giving one last swipe of her rag across the small hearth’s mantle. “The house is so clean now, if you scrub anything else, it will crumble to dust, including the stone.”
Her stepmother was right. Emerence’s reason told her it was so, yet she struggled to overcome the revulsion of knowing someone with malicious intent had been in here, touching her possessions, making himself at home in her house, sitting on her furniture as he waited for her to return. For the hundredth time her skin crawled at the thought.
Hours earlier, the small space had been crowded with the city’s constabulary, concerned neighbors, and her furious father demanding Culkhen’s head on a plate. Gaeres had stayed only long enough to recount the event and all pertinent details to her father. Culkhen had remained huddled in the street, surrounded by half the neighborhood who threatened to stone him if he tried to get up and run.
Gaeres had handed a nasty looking dagger to Tocqua. “He had this on him. Whether or not it’s something he always carries or if he brought it with him just for tonight, I can’t say.” His gaze settled on Emerence, sympathy gleaming in those black eyes. Anger too. “I can
’t stay to speak with your constables,” he said. “My relatives are probably wondering where I am, but I can return tomorrow if needed.”
Tocqua took the knife, and for a moment Emerence wondered if he planned to use it on its owner. Instead he held out a hand and grasped Gaeres’s forearm in a forceful grip. “Thank you, Gaeres. Thank you for saving my daughter.”
Gaeres returned the clasp, his regard flickering briefly to Tocqua from Emerence. “It was my honor to do so, sir.” He let go and bowed low to her. “Madam Ipsan, I remain forever in your service.”
He left the small mob in the street. Emerence assured her father she’d be right back and chased after Gaeres. He paused when she called his name and turned.
“A thank you seems so inadequate,” she told him. “You’ve saved me twice now.”
Gaeres shook his head. “I defended you twice. There’s a difference.”
Oh, if only she were younger with different dreams and goals. Or if he were older, also with different dreams and goals. He possessed the charm of a courtier, but a charm wielded with sincerity and from the heart, its power so much greater than the practiced kind. Fifteen years earlier and Emerence’s knees would have melted. Instead, she remained steady and offered him an assurance. “You needn’t worry about the constabulary bothering you. My father is a respected Beladine citizen. They’ll accept his word and my testimony as well. And Culkhen Goa has already spent many a night locked in the Zela for petty crimes.”
Gaeres’s eyebrows lowered into that same forbidding expression she found both intriguing and not a little intimidating. “Breaking into your house to wait for you with the intent to commit violence against you isn’t petty, Emerence. You’ll need to be on your guard when they release him from the gaol.”
She nodded. “I know. I will.” She’d underestimated Culkhen’s drive for revenge or the fiery blame he’d assigned her for slandering his already notorious reputation. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
“Come to the Sun and Rose celebration tomorrow night,” he told her. At her hesitation, he employed the words that guaranteed she’d show up. “Come so I may have a last chance to tell you farewell before I leave Timsiora.”
Under a Winter Sky Page 37